Not Dying With You
by heavenseed
Summary: What would have happened if Martha Jones brought Riley Vashtee aboard the TARDIS after the events of 42? 10th Doctor, Martha Jones, Riley Vashtee.  Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: No smut just yet. Next chapter, I promise! This takes place from _42_, AU after. Please review!** Thank you BBC for the characters!

Martha never really registered the first time Riley Vashtee kissed her. She clicked her cell phone closed, having said what she thought would be her last goodbye to her mother, and let the fear wash over her. They were in an escape pod that has been jettisoned from the S.S. Pentallian, and were about to crash into the sun. They had escaped Ashton, possessed and hell bent killing them, only to be floating serenely to their deaths. Riley had pulled Martha into his arms and held her, placing a chaste kiss to her forehead. Martha let out a sob and swallowed down the rest of her panic, forcing it down with the thin hope that the Doctor would find a way to save them.

But every second that slipped by shaved that hope thinner and thinner. The air inside the escape pod was getting thicker with the smell of sweat and hotter as they descended toward the sun. Riley sat against the back wall of the pod and Martha perched on the edge of the seat, each trying to keep their composure. Riley knew that the sun's gravity would soon grab hold and pull them into itself. He tried not to think of his friends on the Pentallian, Korwin now dead and Ashton now overcome and possessed as well. What about Erina? Was Scannell ok? He might never know if the Doctor was able to save the ship. His greatest regret though, was that he had nothing with which to comfort the woman next to him. Under other circumstances, he would find her attractive, thrilling even. Her dark skin, her tattoo, her high-heeled shoes and the air of mystery around her and her companion were tantalizing. As they had worked their way through the deadlock sealed door pop quiz, he'd been too panicked to notice the way beads of sweat rolled down into her tank top, or the way she would lick the salt from her upper lip as she hoisted the lock clamp against the door.

With a jolt and a crackle of electricity, the doomed pair were thrown from their private thoughts. Riley jumped to the controls. "We're being pulled back!" Martha whooped, "It's the Doctor! I told you!" The entire pod changed course and began it's slow journey back to the Pentallian. Relief washed over them both, and as the Doctor turned to look into the sun, and as it seeped inside him, Riley Vashtee pulled Martha Jones into a toe-curling kiss. There was nothing like being seconds from death to make one's emotions spill over.

Neither Riley nor Martha had time to revel in their relative safety aboard the ship, as they found the Doctor possessed and threatening to kill the entire crew. Panic and fear rose to new levels as the ship's collision was being calmly counted down to by the computer. Riley ran to Scannell's aid and Martha dragged the Doctor to the stasis chamber.

Minutes later, as Martha ran the length of the ship to relay the Doctor's instructions, she admonished herself for wearing such insensible shoes. Scannell and Riley balked for a moment, when Martha told them to vent the engines and dump the fuel. But 42 minutes had quickly become 42 seconds and they either tried it or died. As the fuel was released into the sun's atmosphere, the ship was released from it's grip and the engines came back online. The Pentallian made a hard turn away from destruction, and away from it's Commander. As Scannell and Riley embraced, the full force of the computer having announced the opening of the airlock registered. Their five crew mates were dead. Allowing McDonnell to continue with fusion scoops had led to death of the people they had come to know as their family.

As Martha helped the Doctor out of his spacesuit, Scannell sent official Mayday and Riley logged the demise of the crew into the ship's computer. Neither man could let himself think of what was to be their fate. Fusion scoops were illegal, and they had been complacent. Prison seemed a likely outcome. After transferring the ships controls over to his command, Scannell made sure the heat vent chambers were cool before leading the Doctor and Martha in to survey the remains of their ship.

Riley tagged along and was as speechless as Scannell when they saw the blue box.

"This was never your ship!" Scannell said in awe. The Doctor petted the wooden box affectionately. Riley couldn't help but think that the TARDIS would be quite intimate, and tried to push away the disappointment he felt when he assumed he and Scannell would never fit inside. Four people could never travel inside that box for very long. He had misjudged Martha's relationship with the Doctor. Surely no man could be so close to this woman without feeling something for her. He should know.

The Doctor gave Martha a conspiratorial grin as he slipped inside the blue box. And while he thought he knew what the answer would be, Riley Vashtee had to ask.

"Don't suppose I'll ever see you again?"

"You're welcome to come aboard. There's room for two more in here." She spoke to both men, but her eyes were on Riley's

"What? In there?" Riley asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, in there, if you want."

Scannell was solemn and apologetic. "I can't. I'm the Commander now. I can't just leave the ship. I want to make sure this sun doesn't hurt anyone else."

"He's right. We have to stay." Riley let go of Martha's hand and bowed his head in regret.

"No, Vashtee. Go. You go on." Scannell pushed his mate's shoulder toward the TARDIS. Riley couldn't form words as his regret bled into hope. "That's an order, Vashtee."

Riley pulled Scannell into a hug. Martha slipped into the doorway of the TARDIS. "Thank you. Orin. Thank you." Riley was near tears as he held is friend one last time. Before he could change his mind, Scannell pulled Riley off him. "Go!"

Riley followed Martha into the TARDIS without looking back.

* * *

><p>"Welcome, Riley Vashtee!" The Doctor beamed at the awestruck man as he floated up the gangplank. Martha watched with amusement as Riley took in the sight of the console room.<p>

"But it's... No. This isn't possible."

"Yep." Martha confirmed. "Bigger on the inside."

"This is insane!" Riley pushed a hand through his filthy hair and spun around in wonder. The Doctor deftly worked the console and brought the TARDIS into the time vortex.

"Where to?" The Doctor regarded his two companions. "The red ice fields of Balhoon? Something nice and cool?"

"Ugh. I could use a shower." Martha sat down on the jump seat and pulled off her shoes. Riley stood at the console and watched the time rotor like a child at the aquarium.

"Right! Lets all get cleaned up and then get some food. I am starving!" The Doctor loosened his tie as he started toward the corridor.

Martha went to the very silent, very still Riley Vashtee and touched him gently on the arm. "You ok? I know it's a bit mad, the TARDIS. You'll get used to it."

Riley looked at Martha, a smile playing across his lips. "Right. Mad!" The both laughed, nervous tension that had been bottled for the last hour finally rising to the surface.

"I never said, but, it was nice." Martha moved into Riley's personal space. "Not dying with you."

Finally, Martha's words brought out Riley's true smile and his hard features softened into a handsome grin. "You are amazing, Martha." Martha barely let the words leave his mouth before her lips were on his. He had no time to close his eyes and enjoy the kiss before Martha was moving to pull away. But Riley was quicker than Martha and pulled her hips against his, deepening their kiss as he did so. His hand moved to the bare skin between the hem of her shirt and her jeans, pressing her against him. Martha found the sensitive spot at the back of his neck and buried her fingers in his hair.

"Very nice." Martha sighed as they came up for air. Her brazen kiss left Riley breathless, but Martha still had the reins. "Come. I'll help you find a room." She took Riley's hand and led him from the console room into the living quarters of the TARDIS.

Even as Riley marveled at how big the ship was, he was equally awed by Martha Jones. She deftly led him through several corridors and past a dozen doors, all of which looked the same to him. She pulled up to a nondescript door and stopped. "This is you." She said, taking both of his hands in hers. "I'm right across the hall." Riley looked to find another door, exactly like all the others.

"How will I find you?" Riley asked, incredulous.

"I'll wait. Just knock when you're ready."

"Are you sure you don't just want to join me?" Riley couldn't help himself.

Martha ignored the question. "The TARDIS will find you something to wear." Martha left Riley at his door and slipped into her own room. It took all her willpower to leave him there, covered in dirt and sweat and looking for all the world like he wanted nothing better than to eat her up. She gave him a coy smile as she closed her door and left him in the corridor.

Riley went into his room with a chuckle, adjusting himself as he closed the door, his jeans having grown a bit too small in the last five minutes.

As Martha turned to see her familiar bedroom, she sank down against the door, exhausted. She let herself get washed away in relief and began to cry in earnest. They were alive. Five people had died, the Doctor had been possessed by the mind of a sentient star and here she was, safe and sound. Her mum would never know how close she had come to losing her child.

With a start, Martha stood and pulled her phone from her pocket. "Mum! Almost forgot!" She found her mother's number and hit send, ready to gloss over their previous conversations.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This is a serious M. Characters are property of the BBC, plot is mine.**

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><p>Martha said goodbye to her mother and clicked her phone closed. She tossed her mobile onto her bed and was just about to pull off her grimy shirt when she heard a knock at her door.<p>

"Martha? May I speak to you for a minute?" The Doctor waited outside. He was desperately hoping Martha was alone.

Martha opened her door. "What is it?"

The Doctor let out a relieved sigh, seeing beyond Martha and into her otherwise unoccupied room. Even so, the subject at hand wasn't a pleasant one.

"Erm…I don't know how to say this…" He reached around to scratch the back of his neck, as if he could find some courage there.

"What's wrong Doctor?"

"Martha, I know you're very fond of Riley Vashtee and well, it would be, um, very bad, if you, well, if you were to become pregnant on the TARDIS." The last few words tumbled out together.

Martha's eyes grew wide at the suggestion. But the sight of a flustered and now red-faced Doctor drew out a chuckle.

"Seriously Doctor, what kind of girl do you think I am?" She joked, but he didn't catch it.

"Oh. I didn't mean to suggest, that is, I just wanted to be sure that, well, you know…"

"Right…"

"That is to say, I don't know where this is going, but if it were to go there, here, on the TARDIS, as it were…"

Martha was letting the Doctor stumble over his own mouth and enjoying every second. "Uh-huh?"

"Just, be careful, Martha, OK?"

"I'll be fine, Doctor, really." She reached up to hug him. "I'm a big girl."

"Right. Right." The Doctor let himself be hugged and was silently glad the conversation seemed to be over. "Off you go, then."

Martha released the Doctor. "Get cleaned up and take us somewhere nice to eat, yeah?"

"Yeah." The Doctor strode off down the corridor as Martha closed her door.

* * *

><p>Riley Vashtee had not had a proper shower in over a year. Which is not so say he never bathed, but the dry chemical baths provided on cargo ships just weren't the same. His bathroom had the same coppery glow as the rest of the TARDIS. The walls seemed to radiate heat, even as the water grew hotter at his command. Dispensers on the wall provided soap and shampoo, which produced unbelievably soft foam. He spent nearly half an hour scrubbing away normal oil and dirt and sweat after peeling away a film of fear-induced grime. The TARDIS welcomed this new stranger. As Riley stepped out of the shower he found a razor and a bottle of what appeared to be shaving cream on top of the most humongous bath towel he had ever seen. It was police-box blue and more plush that he thought a man would enjoy. But as he wrapped it around himself, the last of the fear and stress drained from him and he felt at home.<p>

The TARDIS had left him a clean set of clothes much like the ones he had come onto the ship with. She had added to the trousers, jumper and short leather boots a cabled cardigan with leather elbow patches. Riley gave the sweater a laugh, but tried it on anyway. He was quite pleased with the look.

A freshly shaved Riley Vashtee knocked on Martha's door, feeling every bit like a boy on his first date.

Martha looked like a bright, new penny in a sparkly copper tank, jeans, and (more sensible) copper flats. "Well, hey handsome! The TARDIS knows your style!" Martha gave Riley an approving once-over as he blushed furiously.

"Not too bad yourself!" He offered his arm to Martha. "Escort me to the control room?"

Martha curtsied. "Gladly. I'm starving!" She looped her arm through Riley's and led him back through the maze of corridors to the control room.

* * *

><p>They sat in a 21st Century roadhouse-style restaurant somewhere in the Western United States. Their plates were clean and their bellies full, and the Doctor had taken liberties with the jukebox with his sonic screwdriver. While he chatted up the bartender, Riley had pulled Martha onto the tiny piece of parquet that served as a dance floor. The smell of smoke and whiskey filled the air, but all Riley could smell was Martha's clean skin, so clean and close to his own. They danced, pressed hip to hip, and even though the bar was like nothing Riley had ever seen, his eyes were glued to the woman in front of him.<p>

From afar, the Doctor watched, a protective eye on Martha. So many times he had pushed away the notion that she felt more for him than he felt for her, and he was both relieved that she had a place for her affection now and more than a little jealous. After finishing their meal, Martha and Riley had all but forgotten him. He had saved their lives, but it was Riley who had kept Martha from panicking, Riley who had held her when the fear of death threatened to pull her under. And then Martha had saved his life. He was still more than a little haunted by the feeling of pure rage, of being possessed. He had confessed being scared less than a dozen times in his long, long life, and the woman he had confessed to was now wrapped in some other man's arms. But, who was he kidding? It wasn't Martha he wanted to be on that dance floor with, swaying to some hokey American country song piped through Radio Shack speakers from a broken jukebox. No, **she** was far, far away. So far, he would have to punch a hole in the fabric of the universe to dance with her.

Riley was next to the Doctor, sitting down on a cracked leather barstool and startling the Doctor out of his reverie. "Ohhh…" Riley sighed as Martha walked out of view toward the Ladies', "Thank you Doctor. For taking me on." Riley slapped the Doctor on the back.

"Always glad to have another aboard!" The two men sat in amicable silence for a moment.

"Um…" Riley rubbed his chin and began, but then stopped himself, nervous.

"I'm not her dad, Riley Vashtee." The Doctor leaned over and spoke quietly, conspiratorially.

"No, right." Riley chuckled. "So, uh, do ya mind if we dock here for the night? There's rooms just up the road." He rubbed his neck and met the Doctor's eyes with a blush.

For a moment, they were just two blokes, mates working out the logistics of privacy.

"Say no more!" The Doctor drained his glass and hopped off the barstool. "Meet me back at the TARDIS at, well, shall we say 24 hours?"

Riley lifted an eyebrow as if to say "Really?"

"Consider it shore leave." The Doctor slapped Riley on the shoulder and left the bar with a swish of his coat and a grin on his face.

Martha came back from the Ladies' with lip gloss freshly applied. "Where's the Doctor gone to?" She surveyed the crowd, almost afraid he may have found a dance partner.

"We've got shore leave." Riley pulled Martha to him by the belt loops of her jeans, bringing her body between his thighs. Martha's lips smiled into his as he kissed her. She let him taste her as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer, her arms closing around his neck, hands in his hair.

A sharp rap of a shot glass on the bar by the bartender broke their kiss. "None of that here – we're not too fond'a mixin in these parts."

Indeed, a look around the bar found scowling faces turned their way and disgusted looks tempered their growing passion.

"Lets find that motel." Martha took Riley's hand and quickly led him out of the bar.

* * *

><p>The night was blessedly cool compared to the smoky bar. Riley helped Martha pull on his sweater and while he was glad to keep her warm, he was equally disappointed to lose sight of her gorgeous skin.<p>

Luckily, the spotty teenager at the motel was too busy watching WWF Wrestling on the blurry television in the lobby to care what race they were and gave them a room key without a second glance.

Once in the room, Riley had Martha against the door as soon as it closed. He was a man who hadn't been with a woman in over a year, and with a woman whom he had just spent the worst hour of his life. He was overcome with relief and with need. His mouth was on her neck, her lips, her face, with fevered kisses and gentle nips. Martha could do nothing but grip his biceps and hold on. He pressed himself against her, and she could feel his desire against her belly.

Riley pulled away abruptly, and pulled his sweater and Martha's shirt off her in one practiced movement. Martha didn't have time to be surprised or to be self conscious; Riley was pulling off his own shirt before hers even hit the ground. There was only the bulb from the bathroom giving a soft yellow glow to the room, gracing their forms in a play of light and shadow.

Taking Martha's hand, he pulled her with him as he backed into the bed and sat. She stood above him in jeans and a sheer bra, her perfect breasts right at eye level. He gazed up at her with reverence before burying his face between her breasts, strong hands pressing against her back to bring her closer. Martha could only anchor herself by grabbing his hair, letting her head fall back. She felt his lips and teeth and tongue taste her, map the swell of her breasts and worry her nipples into hard points, begging to be free of her undergarments. Martha reached back and unclasped her bra, eliciting a low moan from Riley as it fell away from her skin.

He pulled her down into a deep, desperate kiss, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth as he slid his hands down her back and into the waistband of her jeans. His forearms pressed down on the denim and the jeans slid down her hips without reluctance. Gravity took them and Riley could hold the perfect globes of Martha's ass in each of his hands, kneading them as she ran her hands down his chest. Riley was no stranger to hard labor and the lean muscle beneath Martha's hands was evidence of a life of physical work.

Martha squeaked and let out a giggle as Riley's hands moved down the back of her legs. She broke their kiss with a smile and he looked up at her to watch her face as his fingers found the soft flesh between her thighs. Martha's breath caught in her throat as he touched her. He brought a hand across her hip and kissed her navel, his fingers exploring her from both sides. He caught her when her knees buckled, his fingers dipping inside her in the most delicious manner.

Riley pulled Martha down onto the bed with him, where they sunk into the unfamiliar sheets together. She was nude beneath him, though she could feel his erection through his jeans. She wrapped her legs around one of his and pressed her aching body onto his thigh. She groaned with regret as he stood up at the foot of the bed and quickly removed his jeans. For a moment he looked down at the woman before him. Riley was in a fog of desire, but for a moment his head cleared as he drank in the sight of Martha: her chest heaved as she sought to catch her breath, her dark skin molded to the perfect muscles of her legs. Her hands rested on the flat expanse of skin that was her belly, her navel still wet from his tongue.

Martha's heart was racing as she watched Riley at the end of the bed. His broad shoulders and muscular hips were all she could see in the light from the other room. She was trembling with anticipation as he watched her in that moment. He shifted and she saw him lick his lips as he stroked himself.

"You are so beautiful Martha." His words were a low growl in his throat as he came to her. He kissed her with renewed passion, letting her wrap her legs around him. Their hands sought to memorize those places on each other that would elicit moans and caught breaths.

As Riley took Martha's earlobe in his teeth, she begged in earnest, "Please…"

He had to stop himself from going too far too fast. Until then, he had no idea whether he was the first or the fifteenth, but as he entered her, he knew there had not been many men in Martha Jones' life. Only inches within her, he stopped to breathe, pressing his forehead against hers. But Martha pushed her tongue into his mouth and lifted her hips, and he could only respond by entering her fully. She gasped into his mouth and gripped his shoulders, toes curling as she brought her legs up around his waist.

Their rhythm brought beads of sweat to their brows and Riley licked the perspiration off of Martha's neck. He could taste the salt of her skin on her lips and her ankles slipped off his hips as he moved faster. Martha's breath became moans and incoherent cries as she tried to form words that wouldn't come. It was Riley's fingers that inadvertently brushed across her anus as he lifted her thigh that sent her over the edge. He felt her begin to writhe beneath him and turned to watch her face. The complete ecstasy on her features brought Riley to his own end, pressing his face into her neck as he cried out.

Breathing as if they had just run for their lives, Riley propped himself up and looked into Martha's eyes. A beautiful smile spread over her face and he mirrored it. A satisfied giggle turned into a laugh and they collapsed in a fit, barely breathing. Riley rolled off to one side and pulled Martha along with him, so she lay draped over him. They regained their composure and without a word, Martha reached down to pull the duvet around them. Within the safety of a nameless motel in Nevada, their bodies satisfied and bellies full, they slept.

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><p><strong>AN: I don't know if this will grow into a longer story - its hard to write for a silent audience. Please R/R, especially if you want to read more!**


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until after the war that the Doctor had ever indulged in women for hire. He wasn't proud of it and it wasn't something he'd done since he had met Rose. It was a way to forget the horror and the pain, a way to lose himself and to forget. He didn't have to be saving the universe, he didn't need to be a genius, he didn't need to be The Doctor when he was in the arms of a woman who was only there for his own pleasure. Since meeting Rose and finding in her a way out of the darkness, he hadn't gone back to paying for love. But as he walked out of the restaurant that night, the sight of that blonde girl in the overall skirt broke his resolve.

Later, he would chalk it up to her smile, so like Rose's cheeky grin, his hearts nearly stopped. He answered her query, "Lookin for a date?" by holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers. She skipped up beside him as she took his hand.

"Can I call you Rose?"

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><p>In the dusky light of her rented room, he ran his fingers through her blonde hair, letting it fall in waves around her face. With long, trembling fingers, he pushed the locks away from her eyes.<p>

"You're so beautiful…" He sighed. "Can I kiss you?"

Rose bit her lip and nodded, keeping her hands clasped in front of her nervously. Cupping her cheek, the Doctor leaned down and kissed her softly. He could smell her shampoo and taste the strawberry lip gloss she always wore and he grinned as he pulled away. Rose grinned back up at him as he took her face in both hands and kissed her again, harder this time. Her hands found the lapels of his suit coat and held on to them as the kiss became heated. She parted those strawberry-flavored lips for him as he buried is hands in her hair and he brought a hand to her lower back, pressing her into him.

How often had he dreamt of this moment? Kissing Rose and having her open herself to him? He shoved the truth that this was not his Rose into the furthest reaches of his mind and let himself believe, at least for now, that this was real.

Her hands were tangled in his mop of hair as he caressed her neck with gentle kisses, moaning as she breathed his name before taking his earlobe into her mouth. He deftly undid the clasps of her overalls and they fell to the floor at their feet. Rose giggled and pulled away, suddenly shy.

"Look at me, Rose." The Doctor met her gaze and what she saw there made her breath catch in her throat. His eyes were filled not only with lust, but with deep, loving passion. She understood how much he longed for this to be real.

His hands explored the unmarred expanse of skin that was her back and stomach as she slowly undid the buttons of his suit jacket. His fingers counted the ribs beneath the hem of her shirt as she undid his tie and shirt buttons. When his fingers began rolling her panties off her hips, he pulled out of their embrace.

"Are you sure?" His chest rose and fell heavily beneath her hands, where she could feel his double heartbeat.

Pushing his shirt off his shoulders, she replied, "I've waited so long, Doctor."

With a low growl, he pulled her shirt over her head and buried his face in her cleavage. Oh, the scent of her, sweet and salty with sweat, her ragged breath hitching as his hands found her breasts.

They reveled in each other, she unwrapping him like a gift she had pined for and he losing himself in her softness, memorizing every taste and every scent.

She lead him to her bed where they both kneeled, close enough for her nipples to feel the thin spate of hair on his chest, but far enough that he could just feel the heat rising off her body and warming his cooler skin. Rose trembled beneath the Doctor's loving gaze, anticipation and desire tangible in the air. She let his hands map her body, the curve of her hip, the angle of her shoulder blade, the smoothness of her thighs.

"I need you, Rose." The Doctor kissed her as he brought her body against his. Sitting back on his heels, he brought her to sit on his lap. He was desperately aroused, his erection trapped between their bodies. Rose brought her legs around and wrapped them around his waist, so he could feel the moist heat radiating from the spaces he had yet to explore. He could smell her arousal, wet against him.

"Look at me." He whispered. Rose met his gaze, though it was so intense it was hard not to look away. His strong arms lifted her slightly and as he brought her down, he entered her. While he ached to be inside her, he let her down deliciously slow, savoring every inch of her womanhood as she sank down onto him.

When he was fully inside her, he pressed his face into her breasts, struggling to keep his composure. He wanted to weep: with pleasure, with joy, and with longing, because he knew this wasn't real. But her strong hands gripped the back of his head and pulled it back so she could look into his eyes. Using her elbows on his shoulders for leverage, she began to move around him.

The sensation of her body, searing hot around him, pulled a groan from deep within. He watched the pleasure play over her face as she struggled to keep her eyes on his, mouth parted, tongue licking her lips. His own pleasure began to grow and coil within him, and he wrapped his long arms around her waist to direct her movement, pressing himself deeper inside her as she came down on him. He restrained her when she tried to move faster, wanting this moment to last.

The Doctor stilled and held Rose against him, unmoving. Oh, if only he could see her face as he sucked one hard nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue and teeth pull whimpers and moans from her throat. He glanced up at Rose as he shifted his attention to the other side, lapping at it with his tongue until he felt her begin to writhe against him. Her face was flushed, her eyes barely open and lips parted in a pant. That he could elicit such a response from this woman made him swell within her. Holding her tightly with one arm, he reached down between them and found where they met, their bodies damp with arousal. She jerked and squealed as he found her clitoris, already swollen.

"Doctor, please…" Rose panted. He could feel her warmth begin to quiver around him, and began stroking her in earnest. Thrusting into her, jaw clenched, he watched her orgasm in his arms before he leaned forward and lay her down beneath him so that he could fill her completely. He shouted her name as he came, burying his face in her neck.

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><p>He put the small blonde woman into a deep sleep, so that he could dress and slip away. As he tucked his tie into this jacket and pulled on his coat, he watched her sleep. Now that it was over, he could see that this woman was much older than his Rose, thirties at least. Her hair was a different shade of yellow and her lips not nearly as full. He began to count out money from his coat pocket to add to what he had already given her. With a resigned sigh, he left the whole stack of bills on the table and left with his shoulders hunched in defeat, closing and locking the door behind him with his sonic screwdriver<p> 


End file.
